


Nightmare

by Mahnoorjahan



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, feysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahnoorjahan/pseuds/Mahnoorjahan
Summary: Feyre and Rhysand fight after he does something unexpected in bed.





	1. Chapter 1

I shook Rhysand awake, or desperately tried to. Darkness had flooded the room and it wasn’t the kind that had kissed my tears countless times, or enveloped me in a calming embrace. It was a cold, cruel darkness. The one that left you hopeless and confused, the one that you couldn’t find an end of.

“Rhys! It’s just a dream,” I yelled. “Wake UP!” 

As if I had lit a candle, the darkness seemed to disappear immediately. Sucked into a vortex of no return. Rhys was now awake and lay panting while staring up at the ceiling, his eyes were unfocused and those great tattooed shoulders trembled what whatever nightmare he had just experienced. 

I leaned over and laid a hand on his forehead, gently brushing back the hair that clung with cold sweat. The gesture seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, he promptly snarled at me. Snarled.

He was still not fully awake then, if he was acting so animalistic towards his mate. “Rhys…” I began, reciting words that were unfortunately far too familiar, of how we were all safe and how it wasn’t real it was just a dream. Only he didn’t let me get that far.

A growl that seemed to translate to “Go away.” Greeted me. In my surprise, I simply stared back at him. Baffled by this alien response to my care.

“Unless you’ve suddenly gone hard of hearing darling, I believe I requested you to leave me alone.” That cool, serpentine voice. That mask of indifference and slight distaste. I’d seen both countless times when we dealt with the Court of Nightmares or Fae from the other courts of Prythian. But never once had they been directed towards me.

I couldn’t help but gape blindly as he simply rolled over and faced the wall of our room. As if he hadn’t just given his mate and wife the same treatment as some mere court dweller beneath him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a tightness in my chest when I numbly walked towards my previous room in our townhouse. I knew this. This feeling of being pinched from the inside, right between my breasts. Thankfully I wasn’t too accustomed to it. But I remembered it clearly, since it presented itself whenever Rhysand and I fought. It didn’t matter which one of us was wrong, the feeling followed me around all day and through each task. Sometimes I had to remind myself to breathe and loosen up lest it become an actual physical ache in my chest.

I believed it was the bond having an adverse reaction towards the distance between me and him. The wrongness of us resenting each other, even for a few moments.

I curled up in my old bed, the familiarity calling and sickening me at the same time. I remembered how every time Rhys sensed the danger of me shutting him out, a wounded look crossed his features, consciously or not he would most certainly do it. And I would reassure him that it wasn’t what I was doing at all. But here I was, having the opposite done to me.

I could have been stubborn. I could have laid there and poked him right between his wings until he realized how ridiculous he was being. But somehow, I didn’t want to be playful or obstinate. I was hurt that he would do something like this. It wasn’t at all as if we denied each other personal space, or forced the other to talk about events when they weren’t ready to. But to actively (and aggressively) push me out? I had no words at all.

It was with these thoughts that I realized, my musings had led me to stay awake what was left of the night. As the sun turned the sky over Velaris a pale pink, that I always hoped to capture in my paintings, I felt a tentative tremor down the bond. A questioning brush, a hesitant nudge if you will.

I reinforced my mental shields, blocking the tiny silver in my mind I left open from him and completely detached myself from the bond.

Let’s see how he liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

(Feyre POV)

The bond stayed silent all day, I knew even while I was blocking any advances from Rhysand…since he didn’t particularly give me anything to block, it seems that this morning he’d just wanted to check where I had run off to.

The breakfast table Nuala and Cerridwen laid out for us, was devoid of him. As was the lunch table. I headed upstairs to the roof when the sun started its gradual descent, making the day cooler. Needing something to occupy my mind rather than to just sit and fume inside all day I grabbed a canvas and some paints.

The Sidra glittered mockingly at me from my view atop the balcony as I tried in vain to capture it in my scenic painting, the tightness in my chest was still evident and I knew what had to be done to ease it. I just wasn’t ready for the confrontation.

It was then that I heard midnight footsteps climbing up the few stairs to the balcony. The Mother it seemed, had other plans.

(Rhysand POV)

I made my way up slowly, stalling for time as long as I could. I knew I deserved whatever was coming my way for the next few minutes (Or hours, it depends.) but it didn’t mean I wasn’t wary.

I had messed up. Immensely. Feyre had blocked me ever since last night, and although every instinct in my body urged me to beg her to take me back and go after her, I gave her the privacy and seclusion she needed. Cauldron knows I deserved to be shut out.

I finally made it up to the balcony door, despite my stalling. Feyre was sitting on one of the chairs in front of her canvas and easel, a paintbrush in one hand. The other trying to blend two colours together with her forefinger. I heard her sharp intake of breath as she sensed me suddenly so near, the finger at work twitching slightly, and then resuming its job. Nonchalant, as if nothing had ever happened.

I tried for playful, since it seemed that she was just as eager as I was for this talk.

“I’m bored.”

“Find a hobby.” Came the short reply.

“I would but nothing seems to particularly suit me,”

“Not my problem.” A slight flaring of the nostrils this time, irritated then. I switched tones before this had the chance to end badly.

“Perhaps you could teach me to paint?” When in doubt, go for sincerity…or so I thought.

“And why exactly, would I do that?” There was an edge of challenge in her voice now. She was baiting me and although I had to tread carefully, it pleased me to no end that we were somewhat talking normally.

I smirked and I knew she could see me from the corner of her eye, when I took my post on the chair adjacent to her.

“Because you owe me.” 

Feyre set the paintbrush down as she turned in my direction. Not nearly enough but I suppose I could work with it right now. The finger she was blending with ceased to move and instead stayed stationary upon the canvas, all while the setting sun lit up half her face so I couldn’t quite make out her expression properly.

“Excuse me?” There was a flicker of uncertainty in her now.

“I taught you to read, you teach me to paint. You owe me a few lessons darling,” I finished with a grin. I hoped this simple exchange would make talking about last night easier. It wasn’t us to shy from confrontation, but the topic we were dealing with was entirely too sensitive to be brought up out of the blue.

I was wrong.

Feyre whirled towards me at my careless offer, the rage blazing in her eyes would’ve surely made a lesser male wet himself. Even though she was shorter than me, I felt entirely too small with her livid face staring me down.

The shouting match that I thought would ensue did not happen, instead she continued with calm assertion, sprinkled with disdain. All of it combined with her expression of disgust I realized…

…it was the same voice I had used with her last night.

“Well, Rhysand.” I flinched. “I wasn’t aware that love was obtained through favors. How would I, really? One would believe that I was a common court-dweller by the way you talk to me. Not. Your. Mate.”

Guilt and self-loathing shot through me like an ash arrow, coupled by the way she spat out the last word. 

Feyre turned around to stomp her way to the door, her fists clenched so hard they had paled. 

“No, Feyre. Wait!” But it was too late. The door slammed and the echo was my only companion as I contemplated in panic, of what I had caused.


	3. Chapter 3

The nerve of him.

Sauntering up to the balcony and brashly demanding that I teach him to paint. Pretending everything was fine after last night, not attempting to reach out to me ONCE the entire day. I had to admire the sheer stupidity in his being for-

I started. Realizing that I sounded just like an old lady bemoaning her useless husband.

And just as quickly the anger and rage were gone. Yes, what Rhys did was wrong and hurtful but more than anything I felt ashamed of how I had treated him upstairs. His ‘careless demeanor’ was simply him trying to break the tension between us, thick and solid like ice.

Guiltily I looked around my surroundings, I was back in my old room. Determined to show Rhys that he wasn’t going to win me back easily. I had even moved some of my clothes back here as a symbol of my defiance. 

Shaking my head, I stood up from my perch by the window. Shying away from confrontation and not facing evident problems were habits of the Old Feyre, who would’ve gladly let anyone walk over her like a doormat. 

I made my way towards the door, intent on going after him and talking about this whole mess of a situation. However, when I opened the door, I found none other than Rhysand standing on the other side. His hand raised as if to knock but I could tell he was second-guessing his decision with every second that went by.

Our current stance reminded me of when I had run to our mountain cabin long ago, fuming and hurt after the discovery of Rhys withholding us being mates. 

And just like all those years ago, I held the door wide open and let him in. He walked in and my heart broke at how hesitant he seemed, his eyes darted to me every other moment to see my reaction…and then quickly looked away when he found that my gaze was trained on him.

Finally, he seemed to settle on the bed, still some distance between us as I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned back. I looked him over and although I almost missed-   
There. In all the years I had known him, I always found out if he was nervous or afraid by his wings giving it away. A small, almost imperceptible twitch on his left wing, near where the talon curved downwards, was a telltale sign of his emotions. 

“I’m sorry.” His head snapped up at my quiet confession. His features set in incredulity.

Before he could interrupt me, I went on “I’m sorry I said those things to you upstairs, you came to me to make things better but I was too stubborn to even consider hearing an apology…” I stared down at my hands, adamant at not making eye contact.

“Feyre, love.” He paused, inhaling deeply. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He continued, so softly that I might’ve missed it were it not for my Fae hearing.

I looked up at him then. At his pained expression. And despite this moment, despite everything that had happened, I felt the tension that kept our bond stretched taut all day, loosen just a fraction.

“You shut me out.” My voice came out rawer than I expected it to. I couldn’t help it anymore. All the words came rushing out of me and the cauldron damned tightness in my chest. “I understand if you didn’t want to talk about it and needed some time alone but I wasn’t expecting you to lash out so suddenly and I know I made it a point to block you all day but you didn’t even try and reach out to me at all and even up on the balcony I think everything just got the better of me and I didn’t mean half of the things I said well I did mean some of them since I was so angry but-“

“Feyre! Darling, calm down.” Rhys interrupted me firmly, but gently. During my rambling, he had gotten up from the bed and started to walk towards me, I had subconsciously stepped forward as well so now we were standing in the middle of the room.

He reached for my hands, which were currently fidgeting in my anxiousness, and grasped them firmly in his own.

“Feyre,” He said my name like a prayer, his voice was hoarse as he pressed his forehead to mine. 

“I was a fool.” He began, “I pushed away the only light in my darkness. I made you feel unwanted and alone and as if you weren’t worthy of me when darling it is quite the opposite. I wake up every day thanking the Mother for this miracle in my long, immortal life that I do not deserve. I didn’t act like myself when I woke up from that nightmare and I am so utterly sorry my love. I kept away from you the entire day since I wanted to give you the space you needed…but I realize now how I would have been isolating you from myself even further.” 

Somewhere in the middle of his words I had started crying. Rhys simply let go of my hands and cradled my face in his palms, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. I put my arms around his neck as to get even closer to him than I already was, needing to feel him and his warmth, needing the safety and security it supplied.

“Feyre my love, will you forgive me?” His deep violet eyes implored mine.

In response, I pressed my lips to his. The kiss was gentle and soft and I sighed into his mouth when finally, finally the tightness that I had carried around in my chest all day, loosened.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on my tumblr, same username :D


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